Wheel In The Sky
by Iland Girl
Summary: "Chaos is a ladder, and the people who climb that ladder never stop climbing. But there are those who know the truth. Those on top of the ladder have everything to lose. The one's at the base? Everything to gain." Slow burn, eventual pairings. Starts in season 1 and gets very AU from there. (Tyrion x OC) (Ned x OC x Jaime)
1. Prologue

...

**WHEEL IN THE SKY**

by _Illand Girl_

a Game of Thrones fanfic

'_for those who have nothing_'

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

I remember when I was a little girl, my Mother would often take me to the side and give me life advice. Even at a very young age she would sit me down and tell me things I probably wouldn't need for many years to come. She would tell me it was because I was 'growing up so fast!', but the reality was I think she knew what kind of life I would lead.

She told me so many things. She taught me that nothing lasts forever, that absolute power is the most corrosive material to humanity, and that we are to respect the curiosities of life.

My Mother also taught me that destiny was a curious thing. We each had a preordained role to play, a list of events we were meant to accomplish. I didn't believe her before. Who would? She believed people were born to die, born to be bad or good.

It was madness to me, this destiny thing, but Mother insisted that no matter what, my destiny would play out how it was expected. She insisted I might not see it at first, and that how I arrived at my destiny and how I left it would entirely depend on what I did along the way. Mother was a strange woman, that was for sure, but she was always an honest and supportive one.

And as I stared down at my target I finally understood what she meant by destiny and all that crap. Took me thirty odd years but I finally had it down pat.

As I pulled back and took aim, I knew in the depths of my heart that this was wrong, this was not my destiny. Yet as I took aim and stared destiny straight in the face, I couldn't help but throw a metaphorical middle finger at it. All my life this so called destiny and done nothing but take. I had given everything to receive nothing, and so I thought it was high time I took something in exchange.

Destiny was waiting for me, but I wasn't waiting for it.

Not today.

I let my arrow fly.

* * *

**Hey all.**

**Soooo this story has been on my mind for a very very long time, and I honestly have no idea how it is going to go. This story... is going to be different. it'll be following the whole Game of Thrones cast, but with a for major changes. For starters, OC's. I don't want to give anything away, considering I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing, but I do ask you keep an open mind when reading this story. For starters, it begins in the middle of my OC's journey. Why? Because I wanted to, and it would be a bit more interesting to reveal the story this way. **

**Oddly enough, most of this story likely won't have a ton of scenes in first person... I think. **

**We'll see, I will say this story begins in season 1 and goes... well for a pretty long amount of time. Get ready for a very different story with two very different characters. **

**Buckle up boys, we're in the big leagues now. **

**Illand Girl**


	2. Chapter 1

...

**WHEEL IN THE SKY**

by _Illand Girl_

a Game of Thrones fanfic

'_for those who have nothing_'

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

_Eddard_

He had that dream again.

The one he dare not whisper of out loud, especially to his wife. His shame would increase when he saw his wife smile at him too. What could he tell her? Save for that these dreams meant nothing, because that was all they were.

Dreams.

Bad dreams, he corrected to himself. Bad dreams that had no real meaning other than to fester in his mind.

He watched his children, bickering during the feast as he tried to find solstice in this gathering. The King, his good friend Robert Baratheon, had come. Several years it had been since he had seen his long time friend. He had brought his family, and several members of his King's Guard up north with him for his visit. While Robert seemed to be enjoying himself, albeit the same way he enjoyed himself when they had been young men, his wife and the rest of his entourage looked half way to miserable. The Queen more than the rest, at least from what Ned could see from where he stood.

Ned's eyes looked around the room at each of the members of his own family as he thought. His eyes glanced over his wife again, having felt intense shame and looked away when he thought of his dream, before sweeping to his eldest son.

Robb was becoming every bit the man that was ready to lead. He could see it, the boy was braver than he was at his age, cool like the north, and understanding to his duty. He was proud, but not stagnant in his pride. Yes, the North would be in good hands if Ned took up Robert's offer. His eyes continued to his eldest daughter.

Not his eldest true born. Sansa was still very young, two and ten, five whole years younger than her eldest brother. No, the daughter he looked to was brown of hair like himself, likely the only thing she got from him.

Henala was every bit a strong lady. She was a true northerner, even if her parentage said only half, wild and free. Her long hair was always held in simple half braids. She had high cheek bones and a small, almost delicate looking face with large eyes. Eyes that, while blue compared to his grey, were entirely wide and warm, very much unlike his own or her mother's. It made him wonder where those eyes came from, as he never knew her mother's parentage well.

She had more vibrancy to her that her twin, Jon. He looked so much his son that sometimes Ned forgot that the two were twins. He forgot the allegations behind that as well since he looked more Stark than any other. The twins both had curls to speak of, though Henala's were looser and smoothed out when heading to feasts or special events. Usually they were splayed into the air to be free and untamed, but tonight they were held down by a full braid, pinned up similar to the way women in the south did. He had an inkling that his eldest true born daughter may have had something to do with that.

She looked every bit a lady, sitting at the back by men and women he did not know. Though she looked to be somewhat familiar with them as she stared out calmly. Granted she had a stone mask that never yielded to her emotions when she put it on. She could very well know no one in the back rows, but she would never let it show. He felt pride at that, pride that she could look so comfortable in such an uncomfortable situation.

Shame flared at the thought of why.

He watched as Henala picked up Arya, who had thrown food at Sansa from across the table, before scooting her out of the room. Not before looking to the head table and giving a curtsey to his wife.

Catelyn remained as stone faced as ever, never betraying any sense of positive acknowledgement. He internally grimaced- what else could he do? He was the one to cause it, bringing two babes home with him from war. Henala had only been allowed into the feast to look after Arya, who she was rather close to. Both his bastards were close to the youngest female Stark, he noted. The children never treated each other differently, it was only his wife that segregated them. He did so too, if only slightly, to appease Catelyn. He gave them homes, food, clothing, and all the training they would need in their lives to live happily and healthy.

Catelyn did not always approve.

Some days he could ignore it, ignore the looks and the murmurs and the whispers. Those days he watched his children play. Henala and Jon were particularly close, but Robb and Theon- his ward- were often in on their shenanigans.

Henala was a clever girl, able to act the lady she was but also keep the three boys in their place. Clever, quick, much quicker than he or any of his other children. Perhaps one day she would be matched by Arya, though he somewhat doubted this.

Ned looked away from his bastard and legitimate daughter as they leave in favour of glancing at his wife again. As if feeling his eyes on her, she looked at him this time. He was caught, unable to look away from where he had been standing. A thin line was all one could see of his tight lips. His eyes saying everything she needed to know without actually saying anything. She stared at him from across the room. Where he was supposed to be mingling but instead stood idly. Others had tried to make conversation with him, but in this rare quiet he was scouting the rooms when he thought of that damn dream.

Why now? Why was the imagery so profoundly stuck in his head? He knew the answer, but would never speak it, never so much as think it. He wanted, more than anything, to pretend it never happened.

But it did, and it was like Catelyn could see it clear as day written on his face. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He felt shame, shame to himself for putting his lovely wife in this position, but also shame for Jon and Henala. He wanted the best for them, but this was all he was able to give them now.

Catelyn raised her chin, daring him to tell her she was wrong for her scathing looks. He wanted to tell her, he really did, but he couldn't bring himself to, because it was his shame that had brought them here, his shame that had started this.

He looked away.

* * *

_Henala_

Dinner parties were never her favourite, and it wasn't just because she was rarely invited to them.

Dinner parties were usually held for special guests, guests that were usually well respected, and Henala didn't much care for those sort of things. Being the bastard of Lord Eddard Stark meant that respectable individuals looked down their noses at her and her twin. Often times only acknowledging their existence to mock or scowl at them. Or Ned, but even his bastard children would cut a man for insulting their father.

Henala watched from her seat next at the back of the hall as everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. At least she had been allowed in, while her twin Jon had been forced out.

Granted she had only been allowed in under the expectation that she put Arya to bed when it was time to. She didn't mind it, mostly because it allowed her to watch the people of Winterfell drink and become raucous, but it also allowed her to drink as well.

She liked wine quite a bit, and as she had recently turned seven and ten she would have the chance to drink quite a bit now. She liked the feeling of the liquid warming her belly, filling her with an odd sense of ease. She could sit at the back, away from her half siblings, and partially enjoy herself.

For the most part people left her alone. She conversed with the individuals around her, and though she had seen them working around Winterfell, she couldn't for the life of her remember half of their names. Once or twice her blood ran cold when she saw the king looking at her from across the way, unsure as to why he would be, but even when he seemed to rise from his spot with the intent to see her he only made it several steps before another young woman would distract him again. She submitted that this would likely be a trend for the night and did not let it plague her mind much longer.

Henala noticed Arya acting quite fiendish, throwing food across the way to Sansa. The elder daughter squealed out, making Henala chuckle before she decided it was time to leave.

She walked over to Arya and gently asked her to leave. Arya pouted to her, but ultimately got up and headed for the door. Before she left, Henala's eyes wandered up to the head table. The queen and Lady Catelyn sat, both stone faced and cool. Lady Catelyn for obvious reasons.

She hated her, Lady Catelyn did, for no other reason than for being a bastard. Henala had no rebuttal to it, especially when Lady Catelyn would demand she 'not look at me with those eyes!' Like it were a choice what colour her eyes were. She had no choice, no option in the matter, to what colour her eyes were. Perhaps if her eyes were a soft grey, like her brother's, then maybe she would look at her more. However the woman called her eyes 'fiendish blue' for having too much colour to them.

Dog eyed blue, is what Robb had jokingly called them one day, but his words rang true. She had sharp eyes that didn't match her soft face at all. Henala never dwelled on it, but in looking up at Lady Catelyn and seeing nothing beyond that stone face that never quite looked her in the eye always unnerved her. It made her question herself, second guess herself even.

Henala curtseyed quickly before rushing out of the room after Arya. Had she glanced to her father, she may have seen the pity that would've ignited her flame again. But she didn't and so she felt disarmed as she left the room.

"But I'm not even tired!" Arya cried even as they made their way up to her room. Henala grinned, but said nothing. Knowing full well her silence would keep Arya in line better than any statement could. Arya seemed to be quite a bit unnerved by quiet people, which was interesting considering Henala could be very quiet when she wanted to be. It made her wonder what the youngster saw in her some days. Perhaps it was the type of quiet, or that Arya knew her half sister would listen quietly to her ramblings and only interject if she felt in necessary.

The other day Arya had dragged on and on about the sword she wanted made, but couldn't figure out how to get around her mother. And so Henala patiently waited as she sewed up some torn clothing of Jon's before interjecting- "Ask Jon to do it"- and continuing on as if she hadn't broken the hour long rant the young Stark had been on. Arya thought it over for a moment before she flung herself out the door. Henale never heard of the sword again, so she could only imagine it was either a complete success or an utter failure. She was not entirely certain which way she thought it would go.

Henala brought Arya to her room, closing the door behind her to prevent the little girl from escaping. Arya huffed before they went about getting ready for bed. Arya mentioned several things she had seen, Henala humming in acknowledgement as she helped her half sibling settle in for the night. The fire was lit, albeit muted, and the furs on the bed were nicely tucked around the tiny girl.

Arya stared up at Henala as she went about tidying the youngster's clothing. The elder child could feel the prickle of it on the back of her neck, but she ignored this. That is, until Arya spoke up again.

"The King was looking at you." Arya said. Henala hitched, taking a moment to process the words, then she went back to folding clothes and putting them where they belonged. Normally Arya's handmaiden would do this, but Henala found solstice in menial chores. She also liked to be sure Arya was asleep before she left. Less the child run off in the middle of the night and Henala lose her privileges of going to dinners. Even when she sat at the back, she rather enjoyed those.

"Is that so." Henala said softly.

"He kept looking at you, like you were a- I don't know. Like you were someone he knew," Arya said. She rolled onto her side. "I thought he was going to run up to you the first time. Then he stopped himself and- and why were you just staring back?"

Henala had no real answer for it. What was she to do if the king himself came up to her? Refuse him? Run away? She was a clever girl, not a fool. She wouldn't risk her head just to get away from the king.

She had heard what kind of man he was, of the parade of women he had been with, but she was also strongly aware of his friendship with Ned. Perhaps he had simply been curious in her being Ned Stark's eldest bastard.

Henala Snow.

She knew that Ned looked at her and saw the other woman. The woman who had given birth to her. She couldn't call her 'mother' because, honestly, she'd been raised by the Starks. Ned was her father, but as far as she was concerned she never had a mother. Catelyn Stark was no mother of hers, which she had made clear on an abundance of occasions.

"What was I supposed to do? Run for the Wall screaming?" Henala teased before she put away the last of the clothing. "Besides, he is close friends with Father, I doubt father would allow anything bad to happen."

Even to his bastards.

She left that part out.

Henala waited until Arya fell asleep before stepping out. She figured she should find her twin before the night was over, be sure he wasn't still ragging on a practice target in the training pen. As he often did when not invited to gatherings.

It always confused her, how different she and her twin were. He was always so quiet and brooding, like he was stewing in some misery. Even when he was happy he had frown lines. Henala was always quiet too, but she was planning. Listening and waiting. She enjoyed the ignorance of others.

That being said, she loved her twin brother very much and wished to save him from his own depression. She never got that far though, as Henala was met with a very curious surprise in the doghouse. Quite literally too.

Inside the lean-to was a small figure, and at first glance Henala thought it was a stable boy sleeping with the dogs. However on closer inspection she realized it was not a child, but rather a small man. If the groaning was anything to go by. He was lying face down in the straw, and for a moment Henala worried he was suffocating. However considering the noise she quickly cut that theory.

"Is everything alright, my Lord?" She asked the man. He rolled off his face and onto his back. One of the dogs licked him and whimpered while wagging her tail. Henala smirked, but quickly left her face pleasantly blank when the small man looked up at her.

She wasn't completely certain, but considering they did not have any short blonde men in the north, this could only be the brother of the queen. The youngest, Tyrion Lannister. Considering the fact that he was groaning quite loudly, and passed out in the straw with a bunch of mutts, she presume he was a very drunk Tyrion Lannister.

"Hello love, have you come to play too? These mutts are a lovely bunch they are." Tyrion said as he patted the dog that was licking the side of his face. He tried to spit out the fur that had made its way into his mouth as the dog continued to like him. Tyrion spat furiously as the dog managed to lick inside his mouth too.

Meanwhile Henala watched, mildly disgusted, but for the most part highly amused. It was not everyday that a true highborn acted lesser than a bastard like her, and she was definitely not going to turn this one down.

"I think I'll save myself, Lord Tyrion. But perhaps you would like to go back to your room?" She offered, opening the gate to the small pen. Tyrion looked at her, giving up on spitting out the dog's tongue as the mutt looked to Henala instead and whined. Henala grinned and patted the dog on her head before scratching under her jaw. Tyrion watched, curious of the different treatment, betraying a look of insult.

"She doesn't slather you." Tyrion pointed out, a slur to his words. Henala smirked at Tyrion.

"I'm intimidating." Henala explained. Tyrion gave her a look of betrayal, but then he laughed. Henala decided it was time he go to bed, and from the drooping eyelids she estimated her would collapse into sleep soon if she didn't find him a suitable room.

"Where is your room, Lord Tyrion, we should get you inside." She offered her hand to him. He stared at it, and she patiently waited for him to puzzle the pieces together.

She had left men out in the cold before. One time had been Robb when he and Theon had had too much to drink. She left him in the training pen since he absolutely refused to come back in with her. Henala thought it was funny, how he was so cranky the next morning. She loved to rub it in that he was incapable of holding his liquor.

She had left others too, but Robb and Theon had to have been the two she remembered the most. However they were home in Winterfell, they were family…. For the most part. Lord Tyrion was a guest, and Henala thought it would look unsightly to leave a guest out in the cold. Especially one not acclimated to the north.

Granted, from how wobbly he looked trying to stand, he likely wouldn't remember her in the morning.

Still, she felt oddly intent on making sure he made it inside. Perhaps it was because he was so small that he reminded her of a child, or perhaps she was finally developing as a woman some sort of maternal instinct. She wasn't sure, but she decided that it wasn't the time to ponder it.

Tyrion had taken her hand, and tried to stand, but he wobbled on his feet. When Henala stood to her full height he barely came past her waist. She wasn't a tall woman, in fact she was relatively average to short. Sansa was already the same height as her, and she doubted she would grow much more.

The small Lannister fell forward, wrapping his arms around her waist in an attempt to stay upright. Tyrion chuckled as he clutched to the robes keeping the cold at bay. Henala's eyes widened, somewhat surprised but mildly amused. Drunk men tended to frighten her, but with him all she felt was humour and curiosity.

"I'm so sorry my dear, I must be too drunk. I can't show you tonight my many wonders. Though I am told many wondrous things come from my mouth." Tyrion said while trying to right himself and stand straight. Henala chuckled before offering him her hand. Far too used to Theon's dirty words to be shaken by them, she brushed them off and continues to wait. Tyrion frowned before taking her had, he looked like a petulant child as Henala lead him out of the pen.

She locked the gate before turning to Tyrion.

"Where is your guest chambers, My Lord?" She asked, though she already had an inkling as to where that may be. Tyrion look up at her, or at least tried to, before he whirled around and almost fell. If not for the grip on her hand he might have.

"Your wish, M'Lady! Come, we shall find it together!" Tyrion began, marching off. Henala found it amusing and allowed him to lead. He reminded her of Rickon when he saw something entertaining on one of their walks. Practically dragging her down the halls. Henala allowed this, easily following his short, dizzying stride. Once or twice he had to stop and vomit- which Henala did her best to ignore as it made her want to vomit- before they continued on their way.

Henala had been right, the guest quarters had been set up where she had been told. She vaguely recalled bringing a mass amount of books to this one room. She wondered if Lord Tyrion had been who they were intended for.

As they approached the door, Tyrion whipped around and looked to Henala with wide eyes.

"We aren't supposed to be here!" Tyrion said suddenly. Henala looked down at him, quirking an amused brow.

"And why is that, Lord Tyrion?" She asked with a mild tone. Tyrion looked frantically at the door and then her again. However when he gave no answer she went to open it.

Tyrion surprised her by yanking the door shut again. She jumped back at the sudden move, staring down at the little man in shock. He looked up to her with a serious gaze, but his eyes were glassy and unfocused. He opened his mouth several times to speak but then closed his mouth as though he forgot what he was going to say. Henala tried to open the door again, only for Tyrion to shut it. So she opened it and he briskly shut it again. It's only when she went to throw it open and Tyrion slammed it before leaning against the door that Henala finally stopped trying. She stood to her full height and looked more intimidating with her bright eyes and sharp gaze as Tyrion fumbled some more for words. Henala was about ready to walk away when he spoke again.

"I'm sorry my lady, but the room is occupied. Perhaps we can take the party elsewhere? I hear the stables are lovely this time of evening." He said in such a slow, slurred speech that Henna was beginning to lose the appeal of it. She wondered, in the back of her mind, if Tyrion was always like this, or if he simply wasn't used to the intensity of northern ale.

"Lord Tyrion, I will not be sleeping with you-"

"-there would be no sleep, m'dear-"

"-And as amusing as I find this it is late and-and what do you mean the room is occupied? By who?"

Not a moment later the door burst open and Tyrion fell back from its absence. Standing in the doorway was a very tired looking man with golden hair and devilishly green eyes. Henala squared her shoulders at his presents, her face going pleasantly blank.

"Sir Jaime, apologies, I did not know you were here too." She said with a light curtsey. The man looked her over, trying to place where he had seen her before. When he said nothing to her they both looked to the little man at his feet who had fallen on his back and could not seem to get up. Henala wondered just how much of his issue was the ale at this point. Jaime sighed before reaching down to lift him upright.

"Where the bloody hell were you?" Jaime asked, but Henala could detect a hint of concern in his voice, possibly amusement. Henala watched as Tyrion attempted to explain, but almost looked like he was going to pass out on his feet. She realized that he likely would, but also that her deed was done. So she glanced up at Jaime about the same time he looked to her.

"He was in with the hounds. I thought it too cold to let him freeze." She informed him. Jaime nodded once, still looking at her, it was only when he looked her directly in the eye that something seemed to have fallen into place.

"She has…..lovely eyes…right, brother?" Tyrion murmured as he drooped into his brother's side. Jaime still stared, but then corrected himself and held an aloof mask.

"You're Ned Stark's bastard."

Henala felt as though she had been stung. To have it said so bluntly and in her face was worse than all the whispers behind her back. Yet she betrayed nothing of her pain to the man. Like every other time people spoke of her, she ignored them.

"And you are Tywin Lannister's eldest son," she bit back, "except you are part of the King's Guard."

Jaime narrowed his eyes, and she found that she couldn't quite read them when he looked like that. What emotion was behind his eyes was easily masked, and she did not like that sort of mask.

It was a mockery to her.

"Seems we are both in the same boat then. Not entitled to land, or titles, or to carry forward the house name. But at least I have my name, what do you have, little wolf?" Jaime said in a dangerous voice. Henala felt her back muscles stiffen. She would not hunch to this man, and from the look in his eyes he expected her to.

She was angry, perhaps at herself, perhaps at all those that whispered cruel words behind her back. The worst yet, was the looks and laughs at her expense. At Jon's expense, and their expense. She may not have been a true Stark, but her father had been a father, and he had raised her right. At least, she believed he did. He raised her with one thing, if nothing else.

So with a straight back, a tight jaw, and very cold eyes, she whispered the words that came out with heat that didn't match the ice in her gaze.

"My honour."

He must've known what she was implying, because his mask cracked ever so slightly. Rage built up, but then it fell. Much to Henala's surprise. He took a step back with his brother in tow before looking at her again.

"You have much more than her eyes." Jaime said.

Then he slammed the door in her face.

* * *

**Hey all.**

**Well look at what we have here! A new chapter! Man I hope you guys enjoyed it! I'm having a lot of fun with this so far. **

**Thank you for the review! It made my day! And really spurred me to keep writing! **

**So good ol' Ned has two bastards? Curious, curious. Wonder how this is gunna pan out? Good luck guessing, because I haven't gotten that far yet!**

**I can say that things will be changing a lot after the first season. Shit goes down man. Until then, presume everything is relatively normal and in season one. Oh and if anyone is curious as to pairings, well you could wait and see, or you could... idk, ask. I'll say them if people are curious. This is labelled a romance right? I think so. Well it is now. A very slow burn romance but still! We shall get there!**

**Well, I don't have much to say, other than I will hopefully be updating Mondays from now on! So buckle up guys and gals, we're gunna be on a rocky adventure! **

**Thank you for reading!**

**Illand Girl**


	3. Chapter 2

...

**WHEEL IN THE SKY**

by _Illand Girl_

a Game of Thrones fanfic

'_for those who have nothing_'

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

_Henala_

"I don't understand why you can't tell me anything." Henala said as she trailed after her father. Ned Stark was much faster then she was, and it was a hard task to keep up, especially when he was in no mood to slow down for her.

"And I've told you before. I'll tell you all about your mother on your eighteenth name day." Ned threw over his shoulder. This didn't satiate Henala in the slightest. Said name day was a whole nine months away, and she didn't have the patience to wait that long. She had asked him the same thing a whole ten years ago, and his answer was always the same. But answers like those, questions she had her entire life, were building and knotting at the back of her skull. Festering and growing until she couldn't think of anything else.

"Please father, tell me something, anything at all! What colour was her hair? Was she tall? What was her name? Did she-" Henna was cut off though as Ned stopped abruptly and turned to his eldest daughter. He placed a hand on either shoulder of hers and held her in place before looking her square in the eye. He had such gentle eyes for a man who had seen his fair share of war. She decided he must've had very gentle eyes as a young boy, all things considered.

"And I promise to answer every question, but not today Henala. You must understand that." Ned explained. Henala was far from happy with he answer, but she didn't push.

"Alright, but….. but can I ask something else of you?" She began hesitantly. Ned stood tall, dropping his hands from her shoulders. He nodded for her to continue.

"King's Landing, can I come with you to King's Landing?" She blurted quickly. Ned took a breath, not certain how to begin with this. However Henala never let him speak. "Please Father, don't leave me here! Don't leave me with her!"

She hadn't meant to blurt that last part out, she really hadn't, but she did. She looked at her father then, and saw the weakness there. Ned Stark was good to his bastards, and he had a soft spot for them even when he didn't need it.

"We'll talk more tomorrow about this. I promise." Ned said before he carried on. This time Henala did not follow.

A whimper and something bumping against her knee brought her attention downwards. Golden eyes and gold fur. Henala grinned and reached down to pet her.

"Orella, how's my girl?" She cooed, her dire wolf gently nipping at her fingers but never biting down. Orella was very small, the smallest of the litter in fact, which was why the boys had almost missed her. Jon told her he had tripped over the tiny pup reaching for his wolf, Ghost. She was still considerably smaller than the others, but Henala didn't mind. She enjoyed the fact that the pup could be held still since she was so light.

"She might be small, but she's got a beautiful coat."

Henala looked up to her twin, Jon, as he approached. His own dire wolf was on his heels. Henala grinned.

"You think so? She reminds me of a little lion." Henala said before picking her pup off the ground. Jon smiled at them both, before Ghost whined at his legs.

"You're making him jealous. Lucky you to have the smallest pup. Ghost is going to throw out my back pretty soon." Jon said, patting the dire wolf. Henala smiled, watching Jon with his pup was always nice. Despite being twins her and Jon were very different on their outlooks. Henala enjoyed watching people. She liked finding what made people tick, what made them act the way they did, but Jon hated games and mental challenges. He preferred brutal honesty, even if it sometimes hit harder than he was ready for.

But with his sister he was different. The twins were against the world together, they had shared a crib, a room, then only lived across the hallway from each other. They knew all the other's secrets, all the other's thoughts. Henala truly believed that no matter what happened in life, she wanted to share it with her twin.

Jon was different though, he wasn't happy just being there, and she knew the moment he walked up he had something to say.

"So you've come to tell me you plan to take the black?" Henala half asked smartly. Jon stared at her, opening his mouth and closing it when nothing came out. It made her laugh. "I heard Uncle Benjin talking with Father."

"I wanted to tell you sooner Nala." Jon admitted, but as a true Stark he wasn't very good at talking about his feelings. Thankfully Henala didn't need to be filled in much. She already knew.

"I know, I wouldn't have asked Father to go with him if I thought I was leaving you behind." She confessed, feeling mildly saddened when she realized the distance was much greater now between them.

"So you're going then?" Jon asked, to which Henala nodded. She put Orella down so that she could play with her littermate. They both set off chasing each other around their legs before Orella attempted to pounce on Ghost, only to be pushed down. It would be a sight to see Orella jump on Grey Wind, the largest of the litter by far.

"He didn't say yes, but considering you're going to the wall I doubt I'll be here much longer." She said, her eyes returning to Jon from the pups. Jon's eyes held the same sad excitement hers did. He put an arm around her shoulder then as they turned to their dire wolves running amok in the yard. They tripped one of the workers, making Henala snigger before she called Orella back to her.

"I think it's for the best, that we both leave at the same time. Makes it easier." Jon said. Henala leaned against him shortly before looking slightly up at him. Her brother, like her, was smaller.

"I hate it, but I agree." She looked back to the yard, then bit her lip in thought. "You know what this means though."

Jon looked down to his sister with curiosity.

"What?" He asked, to which his dear twin simply gave a clever smile.

"You'll have to find a fair enough man to cuddle with when you get cold." Henala teased. Jon hesitated for a single second before his fingers began their torture of tickling her senseless. She shrieked, then got her footing and bolted across the yard with Jon chasing after her. Not very ladylike, but she didn't see herself as much of a lady.

* * *

"Lord Tyrion, I see you've rested well enough." Henala said when she came by the little man on her way through the yard. The little Lord glanced up at her, but it was clear he was still quite addled by the drink from the way his eyes swam for a moment.

"Forgive me my Lady, but have we met?" Tyrion asked, his brow furrowed in both pain and confusion. Henala grinned, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Well you did propose your bed for me, though you insisted there would be no sleep to be had." Henala began, gaining the attention of the older man immediately.

"You…. Excuse me my Lady, where are my manners. Please forgive me for my rudeness, it was not my intention." Tyrion said while sitting up straight on the barrel. Henala smiled down at him.

"There was no offence my Lord. I am Henala Snow, not a Lady." She said it with an air of resignation that was not lost on Tyrion. _Be that as it may_, he thought, _that is no way to speak to Lord Eddard's eldest daughter. True born or not_.

"Might I make up for the blunder by offering to take the Lady for a stroll?" He offered this, but Henala could tell they would be making many stops for him to vomit or shit himself in the bushes.

"Are you sure you can withstand such endeavours, Lord Tyrion?" She asked in a polite voice, but her eyes danced with amusement. Tyrion gave a soft chuckle.

"No I suppose not. Perhaps another day then." He conceded before unceremoniously flopping back against the wall behind him. Henala quickly hid her smirked and carried on as she had been. She'd been looking for her younger brother, Bran, for some time now. She caught sight of Summer sitting by one of the towers, and as she began to make her way over something fell from the top of the tower and began a dead fall to the ground.

When it landed, it landed hard. It took a whole ten seconds for Henala to realize that it was a person that had fallen.

It was Bran.

* * *

_Eddard_

"So this means all three of your daughters will be off the King's Landing then?" Robert asked him as they made their way back to the village at a walk. Ned nodded, looking down as he thought of this idea being about as sound as the madness that was their rebellion. All three daughters? Surely he could leave someone home where they should be.

"My eldest wishes to come, and frankly I don't believe it fair to let her twin go to the Wall and leave her behind." Ned looked to Robert, who seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"Your eldest? The bastard, right? God she's got her eyes. Though I can't say I feel the need to shit myself when I see her." Robert said, before laughing at his own words as though they were a great thought out joke. Ned let a small smirk come on to his face.

"I seem to recall a few times she put you in your place." Ned said with more cheek than Robert expected. It was a touch and go subject, his past lover, but Ned seemed to be in a better mood about it today. Much less grim than Robert had seen him last night.

"Piss on that! She cowed you so damn fast I thought she had your balls as trophies. Gods you followed her like a lost puppy." Robert said, but he could see he stepped too far. Ned's eyes held a deep rooted sadness as he remembered the fond days at the Eyrie. Days he could not get back.

Before Ned could say anything in reply his eyes caught something in the distance.

Sitting outside the gates of Winterfell was a small figure, huddling themselves into a ball. Ned kicked his horse to a canter to hurry along when he saw the long curly dark hair.

It was Henala, and she raised her head as he approached. Ned dismounted quicker than he knew himself to be capable of, and was by her side in an instant looking for wounds. Henala stopped him though with a grab at his hand before looking him in the eyes.

"It's Bran. H-He fell." Was the barely audible cry she let out before her sobbing continued. Ned froze where he was, not registering what she was actually saying. It was only when Robert finally reached their sides that he was spurred back into action by his friend's voice.

"Dammit Ned, go see him, I'll mind your daughter." Robert said while Ned hurried into the keep. He completely missed Robert gently offering Henala a hand up, completely missed the look of familiarity that passed by Robert's gaze.

He made it to the Maester's faster than his legs were thought to go now. He didn't even recall crossing the yard, nor climbing the steps. It was a blur until he made it to the Maester's chambers. There he came to a halt once the room's door had been slammed open.

Bran laid on a flat table, being examined by the Maester. Catelyn already by his side and trying to hold in her sobs. When she saw Ned she turned and immediately put her head against his chest. He held her, too shaken to speak more than a few words.

"Is he…..?" Ned couldn't find the words. Thankfully Maester Luwin knew what he was trying to say.

"Not yet. He appears to have stabilized, and if he makes it through the night then we will just have to wait for him to wake up." Luwin said in a somber tone. "I hate to remind you, but it may be best to prepare for the worst.

He held Cat, his wife, tightly, trying to will away the bad thoughts and omens in his head. Instead he focused on her hair, her smell, and the little boy that was lying prone next to them.

And he prayed this was not retribution for his wandering thoughts.

* * *

_Henala_

Henala stared down at the cloth in her hands, uncertain what to do about it.

When she had seen Bran, finally reached him, she had screamed for help before picking up the boy as best as she could before rushing off with him. She can't recall a single time before that that she could carry her younger brother, but today he was as light as a feather when she ran to Maester Luwin, screaming for help.

She hadn't even stopped to make sure he was even alive.

Henala stood next to Bran while the Maester began to work, holding the little boy's hand while fighting not to cry. It was short lived though, as Lady Stark slammed the door open. She took one look at Henala and screeched for her to get out. She hesitated, but at the gentle prodding of the Maester she conceded.

The strangest thing to happen, though, was that the king himself had been there to speak kind words to her when her father ran off. She wasn't angry at her father, but she was very confused by the King's kindness.

'_It_ _was not an easy thing you did, helping your brother. Be proud of yourself._' He had said after she explained what happened and crushed her sobs down. He offered her a cloth to clean her face and hands, and offered to help her up. Henala accepted of course, and said no more on the subject other than a thank you. King Robert was kind enough to escort her back into Winterfell, and left her with some parting words.

'_You're a strong one, you were all made of stronger stuff_.'

She turned the cloth over many times in absent thought. Like a literal movement for the metaphorical mulling of the King's words. She wondered, briefly, if the King was talking about the Starks… or of her mother. She wondered if the King knew who she was, but thought better than to ask. His eyes constantly wandered to her, as though seeing a ghost. She had caught him glancing at Jon from across the yard once or twice too. But it wasn't a burning gaze on him, rather a curious one, as though he were trying to fit a puzzle together.

Henala returned to herself when she saw Lord Tyrion approach her. She covered her expression with a pleasant smile and curtsied for him.

"My Lord, how has the day faired for you?" She asked with a reserved tone. Tyrion nodded to her, his face the picture of concern.

"My Lady, I must give you my condolences on your brother." Tyrion said with a voice to match his worry lines on his brow. Henala forced herself not to snort, it was unladylike in front of company. The only time she acted like a lady.

"Condolences are for the family members, my Lord." Henala said in the most neutral tone she could muster, but the lilt at the end still alerted him to her aggravation. Tyrion hummed in reply.

"Ah yes, the famously callous Lady of the Winterfell. Catelyn Tully has certainly never missed an opportunity to remind you of what you are, has she?" Tyrion asked, and Henala fought tooth and nail to not reveal the anger beneath her stoic gaze. It seemed to answer his question well enough though, and Lord Tyrion gave a half smirk with no real humour behind it.

"I imagine it must be rough, not being able to see him, while your twin is off to the wall. Never to return."

He hit a nerve, he could tell. Henala thought she was good at hiding her temper, but Cersei was better. He saw the muscle jump in her jaw as she fixed it into place before she looked away from him.

"He'll come back. Or perhaps I'll go to him?" She challenged. Tyrion pursed hit lips.

"Afraid not my Lady, the wall is not meant for women. Not because you are incapable, but rather because of the type of company held there." Tyrion tried to explain as eloquently as possible. He wasn't sure why, but he felt the need to be polite to her. Henala looked down at him, watching him with such piercing eyes. They seemed to rip right through him, and all the while Henala felt like he had plenty to hide under his own gaze.

"Then I suppose I will have to become strong enough to fight my way to him." Henala said despite her fears. If this was truly the last time she and her twin would meet, let the day not end. She would seek out her brother the moment this conversation ended.

Tyrion found her words amusing, but she wasn't certain as to why. Whether it was because he did not believe her, or because he did.

"I cannot offer you peace of mind on what your brother chooses, but I can offer safe passage to him North. I wish to see the wall, and you have my word, my Lady, that I will ensure he settles in well." Tyrion said, surprising Henala. She let her mask slip for a few seconds and Tyrion saw the confusion, shock, and suspicion all at once before it vanished again.

"Why would you do that?" She asked, before realizing her mistake and bowing her head. "Forgive me my Lord, I did not mean offence."

"None taken my Lady," Tyrion said in an amused tone. "I simply wish to ease your mind in these troubling times. No doubt you've been stressing about your twin, and your brother. I would like to help if I can."

Henala looked at him then. Truly looked at him, and say no malcontent. If what he said was true then there was nothing she could give him or say that would equal her gratitude. As if reading her mind he spoke again.

"Consider it the least I can do after the atrocious behaviour I displayed last night." Tyrion supplemented. Her lips twitched then, the beginnings of a smile ghosted her face as she curtsied again.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion. It means a lot to me." She said before rising. Tyrion gave a soft smile, before gesturing for her to leave.

"Go find your brother my Lady, please enjoy the rest of your day as well." He said, and she left with a smile but said nothing more. He watched her go before heading off his own way as well.

Henala found her brother brushing his horse, said nothing, and hugged him when she was close enough.

It took Jon by surprise, but he hugged her back just as soon as he was aware it was her. Henala was shorter than he was, a few inches at most, just enough for her to tuck herself under his chin and hug him under his arms. Jon draped his arms over her back and held her firmly to him.

"I don't want to see you go." Henala confessed. "I can't go with you."

Jon sighed. He could smell his sister's hair. She had a smell about her that reminded him of the Godswood. Like she had slept in the trees and was only coming to him now after a nap. He would miss that smell up north. Henala often compared him to the north. The crisp smell of cold air.

"You and I will see each other again. I promise." Jon blurted out. He didn't know if it was true, but he would try. This would not be goodbye for them. Henala pulled her head back and looked at him, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Jon smiled.

"What's with the tears? I'm the one who's going to freeze my ass off." Jon teased. Henala let a short laugh out, but more tears fell. Jon leaned his head against hers, and Henala tried to calm herself.

"You're my sister, Nala, no matter what happens, it's you and me." He promised, he swore to the Old Gods and The New that he would never forget his more important person. His twin, his other half.

Gods he was going to start crying too.

Henala did her best not to tear up. She did everything she could to feel at ease and pulled away suddenly.

"Let's go for a walk, in the Godswood. It'll be our last chance." Henala said hurriedly, pulling him along. Jon grinned, allowing her to pull him.

* * *

_Eddard_

Ned felt guilty again.

Whether it be from his dreams or from the reality, he wasn't sure which made him feel worse. He felt guilt at the comfort his dreams brought him, of the warmth they spread through him. He felt guilt at the fact that he was leaving Catelyn alone with their comatose son.

_She wouldn't be alone_, he tried to justify. _She'll have Robb._

That was an awful trade, he knew that, but he had already given his word and he couldn't go back on it. So he made his way up to see his son and wife, hoping to say goodbye without a fight.

He passed Henala and Jon on their way back outside, holding hands tightly and their lips tight. No doubt they received a lashing from Catelyn. He was tired of it now, all of it. They were his children, and some days, he wished they were his true borns as well.

When Ned arrived in Bran's bedroom he saw Catelyn staring off into the distance. She said nothing as he sat next to her, and he wasn't sure what to say. The silence stretched on.

"Eighteen years ago you went off the war, and you brought them back with you." She said in a spiteful tone, but she was tired too. Tired of all of it.

"That wasn't their fault, it wasn't their choice." Ned defended, but he tried to be gentle. He was trying to make her understand without prodding. He was already leaving her alone, he couldn't leave her in more pieces.

"No….. it was hers." Catelyn took a deep breath and almost laughed at herself.

Almost.

_Promise me Ned._

"Look at me, seventeen years together and I'm still jealous of a corpse." Catelyn said with glazed eyes that saw something he did not. Ned tensed next to her, held his breath. Catelyn had not uttered a single mentioning of her in nearly ten years. Now she had mentioned her twice in one conversation.

_I want to remember your face._

"Is it my fault, that this has happened? All because I couldn't love motherless children?" Catelyn asked as she fell apart. Ned had no answer for her, and so he held her tightly. Catelyn cried into his arms, before Ned forced himself to sit upright and away from her again. Catelyn didn't take notice immediately.

"I can't do this Ned." Catelyn cried, wiping at her tears. Ned took a breath, torn between staying and leaving.

"You must." He felt cold saying it, but it was true. She had to do this, and he had to go.

Catelyn was in a daze as she watched him leave, not quite believing that he had left her there alone.

* * *

They stopped along the Kingsroad some time into the week for a longer rest. Mostly Robert could eat and drink without precariously falling off of his horse. He and Ned were having a private meal while the children went off under the eyes of the guards.

"Gods this is country! I'd have half a mind to leave it all behind and head off into the woods. Eh?" Robert jeered. Ned smirked, imagining the man trying to make it in the wilds now was almost comical.

"I still have half a mind to go with you." Ned muttered. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it. Leaving it all behind. Before Sansa, he had been tempted. Oh so tempted.

"What do you say? You and me, our spears and our horses? Tavern wenches to warm our beds." Robert laughed, Ned smirked.

"Perhaps twenty years ago." Ned said in a low voice, the light leaving his eyes slightly in thought. Robert watched him, watched his only true friend, and was at a loss for what to say. It'd been nine years since he had seen him, and even then there seemed to be a part of him the was missing. Part of him that never came back since he'd last been to King's Landing. Since he lost her.

So Robert reminisced of women he had bedded and jeered as much as he could, and just slightly the light returned to Ned's eyes as they recalled their youth in the Eyrie. His bastard daughter road her horse by, and were it not for the colour of her hair he could've sworn he'd seen a ghost. Ned noticed him staring too.

"She looks so much like her mother. Except for the hair, that's certainly yours. The other bastard, he looks nothing like her. Perhaps the curly hair?" Robert muttered in thought. Ned looked down.

"No, he doesn't. He's quiet too." Ned said softly. Robert sighed before sitting back in his chair.

"I know what it feels like Ned. I know you feel like you lost yourself that day. Like I felt the day you told me Lyanna was dead. I know." Robert implored, hoping his friend agreed. Ned shook his head, trying so hard to play it off.

"It's been nearly twenty years Robert." Ned insisted.

"Does that really make a difference?" Said Robert. "_You don't forget the first one._ She told me that."

Ned stayed quiet, took a breath. Robert could see the memories dancing behind his eyes. Piss, he'd meant to try and help and all he did was make a mess. Robert reached into his robes and produced a letter before tossing it to his friend.

"A rider in the night brought this." Robert said before downing his wine. He needed so much more of the damn stuff. Ned stared at the paper in his lap before unfolding it. He read quietly.

"The youngest Targaryen has wedded some Dothraki horse lord. What of it? Are we to send gifts?" Ned said, not entirely focused on the conversation.

"Laugh while you can. Once she spreads her legs and breeds we'll have trouble." Robert said while drinking another cup of wine.

"She's a child! Do you honestly fear someone so young?" Ned challenged back. Robert slammed his cup down and glared across at him.

"If a Targaryen crosses the narrow sea what then? What will we do when the horde is at our doorstep?" Robert said. Ned shook his head.

"We're not actually talking of this. It's unspeakable." Ned rejected.

"What the Mad King did to your Father and Brother. What Rhaegar did to Lyanna. That was unspeakable! What he did to-"

"I will not speak of this! A million Dothraki could live across the sea, but they will never cross. They have no ships, they fear the water! Do not make enemies when it isn't needed!" Ned cut in. Robert took several deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

"There's a war coming Ned. I don't know when, or how big, but I can feel it. We need to know who we can trust, who we can depend on. And I can't have that kind of risk." Robert said, but his friend could see the fear in his eyes. Robert didn't fear war, he didn't fear battle.

He feared the unknown.

* * *

**Hey everyone!**

**Sorry for the long delay between updates! I went from wanting to make this like a basic fanfiction to having an idea. It might seem insane, but i really want to make a true to heart GoT fanfic. **

**Meaning everyone and anyone could be a target and die. And people who lived before may die instead. The entire book is going to be seperated into 3 acts, and I'm going to be relatively tame until the second act... I think. **

**In order to do this i have had to, essentially, figure out how my OC's would actually change the outcome of the show/books. And the truth is... they change a lot. Also, while I am normally a book fan, I haven't read the books. Sorry, but it's the truth. I will be leaning heavily towards how the show did things... sort of... but starting points, for simplicity, are all in the same spots. That is the only spoiler or hint that you get. That, and there has already been someone in Westeros that was part of Robert's rebellion. **

**I am also unapologetic for brutality, but in order to not get this book taken down there will be no graphic rape/sex/torture scenes. But if they occur it will be heavily implied. I also implore you to help me! If you see a plot hole let me know! Because if I haven't seen it yet, it doesn't take long for me to fix it and will make it that much better!**

**There will be multiple pairings, but the main pairing is for Ned x OC x Jaime. I don't want to give anything away, but Henala gets some, Robb gets some, Jon gets some, and not necesarily with the people you would expect. There will be such big changes man, I'm in love with some of the badassery that happens ****later.**

**Thank you for reading!**

**Illand Girl**


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